


Porn Preference Normal

by testosterone_tea



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/testosterone_tea/pseuds/testosterone_tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock watches porn in secret and John catches him at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porn Preference Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This story is a bit closer to the length I was going for the first time around. I keep wanting to give PWPs a plot, even though the whole point is that there isn't one. I'll do better next time.
> 
> Also, I played around with alternating POVs between Sherlock and John. I don't know if it's distracting, so if you don't like it, you should tell me.
> 
> Translation into Chinese available: [色情片偏好：正常](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1378549) by lesley1215 
> 
> ** John actually has the concept of asexuality overly-simplified in this fic, but I didn't think he would be an expert on different varieties of sexuality or their complexity. I really think that he thinks of himself as straight* (plus Sherlock) and that he wouldn't delve too deeply into the LGBT community lest he have to confront his own identity. Anyway, if anyone wants to know more, check out the comment at the bottom by consulting asexual or message me.

A knock on the door brought Sherlock out of his contemplation of decomposition rates of different types of wood and he raised his head.

"Just popping out to the shop, dear. Need anything?"

Mrs. Hudson was wearing a brand new hat and her favourite dress. Not her best dress, but the one she admired most on herself. Sherlock inhaled deeply. Yes, and wearing Chanel perfume. Lipstick as well, one shade off her natural skin tone.

"A nice kidney would be excellent," Sherlock said.

"Oh, you. I'll pick up some biscuits. The chocolate ones that you like."

John was actually the one who liked them, but Sherlock was content to eat them with his tea. Mrs. Hudson disappeared down the stairs, and when he heard the door at the bottom of the stairs close, he sat up.

Obviously, she was going to go next door to Speedy's, flirt with the owner for a bit and _then_ go to the shops. She wouldn't return for at least an hour, which was plenty of time. John wasn't due back from the surgery for at least as long.

He got up from where he'd been lying supine on the sofa and quickly located John's laptop. The password had changed again, but a few moments were all it took to have it figured out. Why John didn't simply use a string of random numbers was incomprehensible to him. Perhaps John thought he would forget it?

He found the file labeled "Xmas 1998" and smiled as all the usual videos came up.

John still hadn't figured out that Sherlock had not only uncovered his porn folder, but began storing his own there as well. Sherlock had a cataloguing system with numbers, whereas John liked to call them things like "Brunette Cum in Face," so he supposed that's why John hadn't noticed yet. Still, John surely realized that if he didn't call his videos something with a numbered file name, then who else would? John hadn't said anything, so Sherlock had to assume his porn collection remained safely hidden among John's for the time being.

File number 023312: blond receiving a rimjob from a lifeguard.

Sherlock settled in to enjoy, relaxing in the knowledge that he wouldn't be interrupted.

***

John hummed happily as he made his way back from the surgery, enjoying the spring sunshine after months of cold rain. The flowers were beginning to bloom, the weather was neither too hot nor too cold and John had been able to leave work early thanks to the light patient load. 

The only way for the day to possibly get better would be if Sherlock had a case or if he could finally get a date with the redhead who worked at Speedy's. As he came up to 221B, he met Mrs. Hudson at the door.

"Oh, hello dear, Sherlock will be pleased you're home!"

"Really now. I texted him earlier and there was no response."

Mrs. Hudson tutted. "Sulking on the couch."

"Is that so?" John grinned. "Well, maybe I'll stop for a sandwich at Speedy's then?"

It became immediately obvious that the redheaded cashier wasn't working that day, but Mrs. Hudson's boyfriend was. John suddenly became aware of Mrs. Hudson's clothing choices, something she wouldn't have worn just to go to Tesco and mentally smacked his own head. Sherlock would have noticed immediately.

John bought a sandwich to avoid the awkwardness of leaving the store without buying anything, but instead of eating it there or getting soup to go with it, he left. Time to go face the dragon in his lair.

The door at the top of the stairs was shut, which was strange. It normally remained open, mostly because Mrs. Hudson would bring up a tea tray every so often and had her hands full.

John made his way carefully up the stairs and tried to think if there was any way to tell whether something was happening in the flat that he should be prepared for. Nothing presented itself, so John kept going, skipping the squeaky stair and trying hard to be silent, just in case.

The scene that met his eyes was the last thing he'd been expecting.

Sherlock, in his blue dressing gown and pyjamas was sitting on the couch with John's laptop in front of him. What brought John up short was the fact that on the screen, someone was giving an enthusiastic rimjob and Sherlock had his hand over a tent in his pyjama bottoms and was rubbing at it slowly.

The man on the receiving end of the rimjob gave an obscene moan at the same time that Sherlock turned around to look at him, eyes wide.

Their eyes met and John froze. Everything that he thought he knew about his flatmate was being turned on end. So much for his 'Sherlock is asexual(**)' theory.

***

The last thing that Sherlock had been expecting was the sound of the door to their flat opening. He had been rather absorbed in the video and hadn't realized someone had come up the stairs.

He turned his head in horror and found himself staring into John's shocked eyes.

Sherlock's first urge was to flee and lock himself in his bedroom. He felt as exposed, as if he were actually naked and touching himself. The hand over his half-filled erection wavered, trapped between covering up the sight of his arousal and not wanting John to think he was still pleasuring himself. 

The next moment, his brain came back online and a queue of other possible explanations for his actions clamoured to be the first out of his mouth.

"It's for a case," he said immediately.

John nodded slowly, eyes fastened to the hand over Sherlock's crotch. He toed off his shoes and very carefully made his way further into the flat, depositing a sandwich on the counter. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, still watching Sherlock with an unwavering gaze. Sherlock felt his cheeks begin to heat under the elongating scrutiny.

"What sort of case?" John asked, voice low, eyes still on Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock fought the urge to squirm, to cover himself up, or just to escape. If he handled this right, John would still think Sherlock was married to his work and that Sherlock was able to divorce his body from its desires.

That was patently untrue, and if John kept digging, he would figure it out.

There was a reason that Sherlock presented himself to the world as someone who didn't care or understand societal norms, someone that was apart from the world of sex and other bodily wants. If they knew that Sherlock could feel these things, in their eyes, he would be ordinary. Just another man, a clever man, but his distance from crimes of passion and other emotional entanglements would be gone.

Everyone was supposed to think he was above that sort of thing.

And of course, it was John Watson that had come in at just the wrong time to find Sherlock with his hand on his cock, desire on display.

"A case obviously featuring pornography," Sherlock said, and tried to keep his face blank, as if he didn't understand John's shock at finding him like this. "It's an experiment."

John licked his lips and tilted his head. "Is it now. Interesting."

***

John saw the very instant that Sherlock began trying to deduce his way out of the situation. What Sherlock didn't seem to see was that he'd already given himself away. He was obviously frantic to divert John's attention.

"A case," John repeated with a slow smile.

He slipped his jacket of his shoulders, unhurried and purposefully. Sherlock's eyes were still fastened on him, and his pupils visibly dilated as John lay his jacket over his chair and then came closer. Sherlock hadn't been expecting John to get closer, and he pressed his knees together. That had to be uncomfortable.

"Well then, if it's for a case, then I'll have to help you," John said and tried not to laugh, because the lines he was saying sounded like they were directly out of a porn video, if there was porn of consulting detectives and their bloggers.

John stalked over to the couch and sat down next to Sherlock, making sure to spread himself out enough that he could feel Sherlock's proximity. He saw Sherlock shiver slightly as he settled in and hid a smile.

"So, what are we looking for?" John leaned in and looked into Sherlock's eyes from up close. He heard Sherlock's breath hitch in response and smiled.

Sherlock opened his mouth and wet his lips, but remained silent.

John turned to the laptop on the coffee table and said, "Well, now that I'm here, we'll have to watch this one from the start. Wouldn't want to miss anything now, would we?"

"N-no, of course not," Sherlock replied, voice higher than usual.

John dragged the cursor back to the beginning of the video and hit play, before turning to look at Sherlock's stunned face.

"We'll have to pay close attention to detail," John rumbled, mouth tilting up on one side. "What kind of conclusion are we looking for... Sherlock?"

"I'll know when I see it," Sherlock said, too quickly.

"Better get watching then."

***

Sherlock's heart jumped as John sat down on the couch next to him, and the surface of his skin tingled with his nearness. His movements reminded Sherlock of a predator stalking its prey, and Sherlock felt very very much like he were being hunted.

John's insistence on watching the pornography with Sherlock would have surprised Sherlock if he weren't so busy being petrified. There was no way Sherlock could keep up this facade, and it would become exposed at any moment. Soon it would be obvious that there was nothing case-related at all in this video and that Sherlock was a pervy wanker.

There was something about the fact John was about to watch something that turned Sherlock on and that he would soon _know_ that Sherlock got off on this that had Sherlock internally flailing. It was meant to be private, this knowledge of how to make Sherlock all fired up, and now John was about to see it.

If he came clean now, then possibly he could avoid the deeper repercussion of letting John see this.

On-screen, the blond was applying sunscreen (actually it was oil, but this was meant to be a fantasy) and striking very exaggerated poses as he got all set to sunbathe by a miraculously empty pool.

"Can you get my back?" the blond asked the lifeguard coyly. "I can't seem to reach."

Sherlock felt his gut roiling as John somehow managed to watch the video while simultaneously keeping an eye on Sherlock. Sherlock's wilted erection began to perk up with renewed interest as the lifeguard got down to business. Strangely, John's presence gave this scenario a sharper edge, as if Sherlock should be anticipating something rather than dreading it. Sherlock shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable without letting John see how all this was affecting him.

Oh, but affecting him it was.

***

Sherlock was squirming in his seat, and John was treated to a glimpse of just how much the video was exciting him. John knew Sherlock wouldn't be able to keep himself disconnected, even if John was sitting here next to him. Sherlock kept glancing at John out of the corner of his eye nervously, as if he thought that John hadn't noticed his arousal yet.

His legs were parting to make room for the erection rising up in his pyjama bottoms, and his knee touched John's. Sherlock tried to jerk away, but John put a hand on his knee, kneading the kneecap slowly. Sherlock inhaled sharply, but allowed him the liberty.

On-screen, the blond was moaning as the lifeguard gave him a back massage. John began rubbing circles into Sherlock's knee in time with the on-screen character's movements, and Sherlock shuddered and made a minute movement of his hips. His breath was coming faster and faster, and his throat pulsed as his heart rate picked up.

John started stroking his hand up and down Sherlock's leg, running the tips of his fingers down his inner thigh. The muscles jumped at the contact and Sherlock tensed.

"Are you getting what you wanted out of this?" John asked, voice low enough to sound like a growl.

"Y-yes," Sherlock stuttered, and his head tipped back.

John allowed his hand to wander higher, closer to where Sherlock's hand was still protectively but ineffectively covering his groin. Sherlock gasped and his legs spread wider and then wider again as John's hand lingered on his inner thigh.

He looked up at Sherlock's face, and John's heart skipped a beat at the desperate look of longing directed at him.

So had his reluctant detective finally stopped pretending? There was one way to find out.

"Hands up by your ears, Sherlock," John ordered.

Trembling, Sherlock complied.

***

Sherlock dug his fingers into the fabric of the couch on either side of his head, resisting the instinct to cover himself back up again. His cock was heavy and full between his legs and was pushing up against the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms. Sherlock was splayed open obscenely, knees apart, cock jutting up and twitching, begging for attention.

It looked as if John might give it to him.

John's seduction was the last thing he had expected from the normally quiet and predictable blogger, especially given his preferences were normally more female-shaped. Sherlock had never witnessed John to so effectively pursue his quarry. He was gentle with his dates, generally. Kind. 

Sherlock found that he preferred John this way, with all his sharp edges and hunger on display. Of course John had realized all along. He should have known he wouldn't be able to hide his reactions from John.

John's hand ran up his thigh again, and finally, came up to cup his erection through his pyjamas. Sherlock groaned and allowed his hips to jerk up against John's warm palm, trying to exert more pressure to alleviate the ache in his groin.

"Oh, Sherlock, do keep watching the video. Wouldn't want to miss a clue, would we?"

Sherlock didn't quite manage to bite back a whimper as he forced his eyes back to the screen where the blond was moaning and the lifeguard had his face buried between his cheeks.

John's hand stroked again, running up his hardened length and feeling at the head of his cock through the fabric. The front of his pyjamas were beginning to get sticky as he leaked, and John touched the wet spot, rubbing his thumb at Sherlock's frenulum. Sherlock's hips shuddered, and John's hand slid down again, finding the warm bulge of his testicles and gently exploring their shape.

Sherlock clutched at the couch cushion and hung on.

***

Sherlock's breathy little pants and whines were beginning to get to John. He was beautiful like this, uninhibited and turned on, allowing John to drink in his fill of the sight of him desperate with desire. John pressed a hand to his own hardening cock, but kept up his exploration of what made Sherlock make those sweet little kittenish noises in his throat.

"You do like this, don't you." John leaned forward to talk into Sherlock's ear. "Is this what gets you all riled up, Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock turned his eyes on John, pupils blown wide and dark. He pushed his hips up against John's palm, frotting against it shamelessly in response to John's question. John's breath grew short, and he pressed down on that sensitive spot just behind Sherlock's balls. Sherlock groaned loudly and threw his head back, curls bobbing.

"Is that what you want? Do you like being facedown with your gorgeous arse up in the air like that?" John whispered, grinning as Sherlock's eyes went back to the screen. "Do you like having someone's tongue inside you, their mouth on your most private places?"

Sherlock made a high-pitched noise and nodded jerkily.

"What does your hole look like, all pink and petal soft? I'd bet it would feel like silk against my lips and if I licked you just right, you'd open up for me. Would you like that?"

" _John!_ " Sherlock cried out, the first words he'd managed the entire encounter.

"You would," John continued, voice dark. "You'd love it if I ate you out, pressed my tongue into you to caress inside. You'd feel so dirty, letting me put my mouth there, but you'd _love_ it."

John reached down, feeling for it through the fabric. He stroked his fingers up over the expanse of Sherlock's perineum until he reached the soft dip of Sherlock's entrance. He pressed against it with his fingertips, probing through the cloth. It felt hot and tight against the pads of his fingers.

Sherlock moaned again, voice raw-sounding and honest with desire. John moved back up to stroke Sherlock's cock, slow and deliberate.

"I'm going to make you come in your pants."

***

John's breath stirred the hair next to his ear, and something hot and intense throbbed low in Sherlock's groin. John's words were vivid and provocative, and he could clearly imagine what it would be like to have John do exactly as he was describing.

John's fingers pressed against him, and his hole spasmed and clenched. The touch along with the words sent Sherlock's imagination into overdrive. John was right, it would be hot, wet and invasive, and Sherlock would want to curl up and die with the combination of agony at being so exposed and open, and pleasure at having John explore such intimacy with him.

John promised to make him come, and then stroked Sherlock deftly, hand palming Sherlock with certainty. He rolled a thumb through the slickness that had leaked through Sherlock's pyjamas and swirled over the head of his cock.

"John, I – " Sherlock whined, gut coiling up hot and tight.

"That's it," John purred in his ear. "Let go."

Sherlock cried out helplessly and came in thick, hot spurts, soaking the fabric of his pyjamas. His hips jerked up, shuddering as he was hit by wave after wave of pleasure. His head buzzed as he started coming down from the orgasm high. John's hand stopped stroking just before he became over-sensitized. 

Sherlock finally managed to look up at John, whose fingers were sticky with his ejaculate. He looked down at his lap in embarrassment at the cooling mess he'd made of his pyjamas.

"Gorgeous," John said huskily. "Let's get you cleaned up."

He helped Sherlock stand, and Sherlock's legs wobbled as John lead him towards the bathroom. He couldn't help but notice that John was also walking strangely. A glance downward revealed an impressive erection trapped in place by unyielding denim.

Sherlock wanted to touch it. Turnabout was only fair, after all.

"Lend a helping hand?" John asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Absolutely," Sherlock said, eyes riveted.

John shut the bathroom door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://testosterone-tea.tumblr.com)


End file.
